Seven Years In The Garden Of Good And Evil
by Sweet-rush37
Summary: Woody and Jordan hit the skids seven years before, but can there relationship be rekindled when the are held hostage in a mini mart by a bi-polar armed robbercon-man turned reluctant kidnapper? Chapter 10 up! FINISHED
1. On the rocks

Title:Seven years in the garden of good and evil.

Summary: Woody and Jordan's relationship hits the rocks five years ago, but could there already fragile relationship break apart when Woody, Jordan, and are trapped in a convenient store with a bi-polar con-man turned reluctant kidnapper?

Disclaimer: I do not own Crossing Jordan, its characters, blah, blah, blah, blah… you catch my drift.

Note: more lighthearted and merry than my stories before, enjoy!

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It had been seven years, seven years since eternity had ended and hell had begun. He had often thought of her when the looming, stark gun barrel grey clouds had rolled in bringing with them the threat of rain, it was those nights when he wished on a far off star that he might see her again. But in the morning he was always alone, in his uptown apartment, far from Pearl street and Jordan Cavanaugh.

He flipped on his computer and opened the file on the top of his growing pile of cases. Rain pounded the windows and drenched the outside world, reminding him of what he gained, and ultimately lost.

A stale cup of coffee sat discarded on the corner of his unkempt desk. Wads of paper and fast food wrappers also shrouded his "home away from home" as he liked to call it. Almost instantaneously someone tapped his shoulder. His partner, Shiloh Tanner stood over him, her dark hair pulled back into a high ponytail.

"Hey Hoyt, Boss wants to see you." She muttered in her thick New York brogue, "He looks none to happy." Woody nodded and stood up, walking past the tall brunette reluctantly towards Chief Sullivan's office.

"Sir?" he said tentatively, poking his head into the office. The large, suit clad man motioned for him to come in grimly.

"Close the door Detective." He ordered sternly, Woody did as commanded and sat down carefully on a chair.

"Listen I have a high profile case for you… the killer murdered a woman and kidnapped her child, this all happened in the nineteenths jurisdiction, but as there is a missing child, we come in… and given your history with the nineteenth, I have assigned you and Detective Tanner to the case." Woody swallowed the lump in his throat and cautiously took the file that the chief held out.

It had been seven years, seven years since he had even crossed the bridge to that area of Boston. He had been working at the Seventh, missing persons for five years, after two years leave back to Wisconsin, it had been a long time, too long, now that he held the key to coming back, did he realize how much he missed the nineteenth, and Jordan.

Jordan Cavanaugh, his after their "Fall out" he had left that area of town, got reassigned to the first precinct that had an opening. He kept in contact with her for a short time, but after he received no emails back, no returning phone calls, he gave up. Thumbing threw the file with something approaching distaste, he sighed.

"So… who's the M.E. assigned to the case?" he asked thoughtlessly, thoroughly not prepared for the answer. The chief gazed down at his copy of the Autopsy report and said a name Woody hadn't heard in seven years.

"Jordan Cavanaugh." Woody's head shot up in surprise, almost like he had swallowed his tongue.

"What?" he said flatly, his eyes staring sharply into chief Sullivan's.

"I said Jordan Cavanaugh." Sullivan repeated with a hedge of annoyance.

"I can't work with that woman… she's… she's" he paused, searching for the right word. "Satan." He finished dully. The Chief gave a full throated laugh that forced his eyebrows together, his eyes to crinkle and his belly to shake.

"Hoyt, would you be in any physical danger if you were to work with Doctor Cavanaugh?" Woody drummed his fingers against the desk steadily.

"No Sir." he said with a loud, exasperated sigh. Sullivan slapped him on the back good-naturedly

"Good then… get your ass down to the nineteenth."

When Woody emerged from Chief Sullivan's office, Detective Shiloh Tanner had to notice he looked unnaturally white.

"Whats the matter Dude, you look like you've seen a ghost." She announced cheerfully. Woody looked at her, she wasn't like most detectives, she never wore a suit, she was often crude and complained a lot. Her and Woody got off to a rocky start, they had become friends in the past five years, she had come to the Seventh with nothing, and he had no one, so they quickly became good friends, nothing more, nothing less.

She had her feet propped up on her desk, leaning back in her chair and resting her arms behind her head.

"So what did he say?" she demanded, he sighed, walking by and pushing her feet of her desk in the same instant.

"Congratulations, you get to meet the infamous Jordan Cavanaugh."

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Woody stood staring up at a window four stories up on the corner, the rain soaking him through. It had been seven years since he had seen he had looked into her honey eyes that seemed ageless, how filled with rage, they had both been to stubborn to listen to anyone else's opinions but their own. Garret had tried, Nigel had tried, Hell, even Bug had tried, but they both had dug their heels in and fought the entire way, it wasn't the first time a case had jeopardized their relationship, but it would be the last. With everything that had happened, Devan dying, he tried to push her away, determined not to let her hurt him.

She tried to get close to him, he pushed her away before he would allow himself to get sucked down into the dark abyss, he would not allow himself to be hurt by Jordan Cavanaugh again… he ran, as far as he could while still feeling stabs of guilt for leaving her like he did… he didn't slow down, didn't turn around, he didn't even look in the rearview mirror.

Jordan had once said that was his method of operation, much like her own, they were so similar, that at times they seemed almost like one person. He had liked to think he had gotten over her, but the truth hurt. He wasn't over her, he thought of her when he felt the salty air on his cheek, or listened to a slow song. Now as he stood in front of her apartment, he felt that guilt all over again.

"Wow, nice place..." Shiloh said dully, "Now can we get down to the morgue so we can get a look at our vic, Please!!!!!!" she yelled from the car, he looked over his shoulder at her, shaking his head slowly, with one more look behind him he slunk into the passenger seat. "Hey, don't get the seat wet, its Corinthian leather." She ordered as they drove off.

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Jordan tapped her pen against her desk, as she leaned forward , searching intensely on the dull muddy colored piece of paper for the word she was looking for. She didn't notice the tall figure in the doorway, smiling.

"Hey love, find any interesting words." He asked in his ever-present English accent. She looked up, startled for a moment, but leaned back when she realized it was only her old friend and confident.

"Hey Nige, you'd think someone would have died already, this being a major city and all." He chuckled.

"Yeah, you'd think." He responded, leaning his lanky frame against her doorway.

"So I heard that they're bringing some people in from the Seventh to work on the Thomas case…"

"Yeah, Detective Shiloh Tanner, and someone else Garret failed to mention." She said with a shrug of her shoulders. "I had to thank god that he said Shiloh Tanner and not…"

Nigel looked at her puzzled when she stopped mid sentence and gaped, he turned to follow her line of vision, he didn't have to, he knew who it was the second he turned around.

Woody was walking out from the elevator, a sweet looking bat faced girl walking next to him, talking animatedly, they turned the corner, heading towards Garrets office.

"Oh…My…Nigel, you have to get me outa here." She said quickly, gathering her purse and heading the opposite way as Woody had gone.

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Garret shook hands with the detective he hadn't seen in close to six years. "How have you been Woody?" he asked, sitting down at his desk.

"Oh, you know, you win some you lose some." Woody answered awkwardly.

"Well I heard that you and…" Woody had suddenly ducked behind Shiloh for protection. She looked at him with surprise and pulled away.

"What in the hell is the matter with you?!" she snapped.

"Sorry, I just think I saw.."

"Jordan" Garret finished for him, Woody looked at Garret sheepishly, Garret looked down at the floor and then back up at Woody, a stern look in his eyes. "Its been a long time Woody, we've spent a lot of time working to build up what you left behind, she's happy… will you be able to work with her and not hurt her." Woody nodded sullenly.

"You break her heart and I brake your legs." Garret said knowingly, Woody nodded sullenly once again.

"Fair enough."Woody retorted with a heartfelt smile. After a long awkward moment Garret smiled, holding his hand out for woody to shake.

"Welcome back." He said with a smile "Its been a long time


	2. Out of sight, Out of mind

Title: Out of sight, Out of mind

Note: Its kind of confusing right now, with the flashbacks, and I think there is even a flashback in a flashback in here somewhere! But I promise I will fill everything in as we go along.

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"Jordan! Jordan No, wait, Jordan! No!" Nigel blocked her entrance into the elevator, the door shut with a cheerless chime.

"Nige, what the hell are you doing?! Let me through?!" she tried to push past his arm but it held tight and didn't budge. His face looked set; she slumped a little and waited to hear his opinion.

"Love, you are a professional…" he started, she rolled her eyes dramatically, shoveling her toe into the floor. He shot her a look and she straightened up. "You can handle this, it has been seven years since he left." She tried to roll her eyes but he glared at her. "Repeat after me… I Jordan Cavanaugh…" when she didn't responded he gave her an small kick to the shoe.

"I Jordan Cavanaugh…" she muttered with a roll of her eyes.

"Am a professional." He finished with a cheery tone. "And I can work with the homicide detective from hell."

"Am a professional." She finished dully giving him a kiss on the cheek, turning around and swallowing the continually growing lump in her throat.

"good, Now Love," he said with a laugh. "Go get him." She backed up against Nigel, with a little push he started her off.

That was the longest walk of her life. But once she got to Garrets office, she found, she wasn't as scared as she thought. Then she saw him. _God he looks so different_ she thought to herself, he didn't have the sunny, can-do attitude he used to, she noticed the wicked looking scar that cut a small path above his eyebrow, it was small, in fact most wouldn't have noticed it. She notice the way he held himself, taller, he looked much taller, his hair had grown out a bit, in places it stuck out.

Seeing him, made him real. For a long time after he left she struggled to forget him, his eyes, his face, he left messages on her answering machine, emails flooded her in-box. Once he even left a message with Emmy, but she didn't answer, hoping that out of sight really was out of mind. She remembered the night he left, so cold and rainy.

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**_Seven years earlier… 3 pm_**

_"Woody, are you there, pick up the damned phone!" _she had left message after message, standing at the pay phone, her jeans damp and muddy, her waterproof windbreaker stained with rain.

_"Damn it Woody, where are you… Listen I'm sorry, but I know that Sarah Sealer did not kill her husband, I'm gonna prove it!" _She slammed the phone down on the cradle with force, so hard it echoed threw the deserted parking lot. She sat down on the wet pavement to think about the days events, go over the evidence in her brain.

Sarah Sealer, 37, found husband murdered at 6:37 am, called police two minutes later, her prints were on the murder weapon but she couldn't have been strong enough to shovel the knife into her husbands chest, he was six foot five, two hundred pounds, she was five eleven and one hundred and five pounds. Something didn't feel right, she pushed a muddy hair back from her hazel eyes and leaned against the brick building, the smell of wet asphalt and mud fresh in her nostrils. It was so cold…

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_**Present day**_

He looked at her with equal astonishment, she looked softer some how more subtle than she had before he had left, he had to wonder if she was still living with her ghosts or if she had finally moved on. He hadn't stuck around to find out.

He sighed, "Jordan." He muttered formally, she leaned back into Nigel for support, he rubbed her shoulders ruefully.

"Woody." She responded in the same formal tone. Everyone could feel the ice in the room, that chill that seemed to seep into the office.

"I take it you two know each other." Shiloh bit out after an discomfited moment.

Jordan nodded slowly, "you could say that…"

Woody seemed to snap out of a dream like state. "Where the hell are my manners? Detective Shiloh Tanner, this is Doctor Jordan Cavanaugh." The two shook hands uneasily.

"Your manners must have disappeared Detective Hoyt, maybe they're with your ethics." Jordan snapped, Woody nodded towards the door and the group seemed to follow the feuding detective and medical examiner out the door, Woody turned and gave them a sharp look, stopping them in their tracks. Once they were out of ear shot, Woody turned to Jordan, looking her in her eyes.

"Listen Jo, it's been a really long time… okay, so, can we just put the past behind us until we solve this case and thenyou can go back to hating each me." She gave him a deathly cold smile, patting his arm in fake comfort…

"I don't have a clue what your talking about Detective… oh, and its Doctor Cavanaugh if you don't mind." She turned and walked away, a satisfied look on her face.

"_It's Doctor Cavanaugh if you don't mind._" Woody mimicked to himself bitterly. Jordan shot around.

"What was that?" she asked in a mocking sweetness. He shrugged his shoulders, pretending not to know what she was talking about.

"Nothing."

She nodded knowingly "That's what I thought." She muttered, slamming her office door with a boot clad foot.

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_**Present day**_

Woody stood in his uptown apartment, admiring the view of the skyline from his window. His apartment was cold, unfriendly, much like how he had turned in the past seven years. He had dated, all meaningless to him, around the office he had gotten his fair share of hate mail from woman cops and the like… the truth was, he had his heart broken, even if wouldn't admit it to anyone, including himself.

He sighed, walking in a lopsided circle, seeing Jordan had conjured up too many memories, more than he'dcare to remember. She looked different, softer, less on edge than she had, like she had made peace with her driving ambitions and had, end the endmade a peace with herself.

He walked to his hall closet and pulled the string that triggered the light bulb to flash on. He ducked and pulled out a box, a box filled with everything he had left of her… some things she had left at his house before he moved. A old office party picture, he had folded it so it only showed her at first, he had taped it to his mirror, then he had unfolded it, then stuffed it into the box, hoping out of sight would truly be out of mind.

A old shirt, tattered and worn, _spitfire_ was written across the front of the navy colored material, it made him smile, if any word could describe Jordan Cavanaugh, it would be spitfire.

But things had changed, he hoped that somehow she hadn't changed too much, he had always liked her the way she was… even if it meant it was his ass on the line, or he was constantly bailing her out of trouble. He tossed the cotton tee-shirt aside and pulled out his most treasured item, the tapes of the messages she had left the night he drove home to Wisconsin, slowly he got up and slipped the first one, the one he most frequently listened to, into his cassette player.

"_Hey Wood, it's me, Jordan… Listen, Sarah Sealer did kill her husband, she hired their gardener to do it… you were right.. so um, you can come home anytime…please... come home." _He shut off the tape before he could hear her beg more. Her voice had sounded so strained, like she was fighting to keep from crying. He sighed, she moved on, and he hadn't.

It brought back a flood of memories all he could do was blink.

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_**Seven years earlier…2 am, Woody Apartment **_

Stuffing his clothes into a bag quickly he ignored the flashing red 12 on his answering machine. She had hit a raw nerve, he had to leave, go away, go somewhere where he could get his thoughts in order, without Jordan Cavanaugh breathing down his neck. He couldn't believe they asked for his badge and gun, his job, the only thing he had left… she could jeopardize his life, his sanity, but damned if he would let her take his job.

Rain tapped at the window, he could hear people downstairs talking and laughing. He stuffed more frantically, he knew she would be home soon… it all played out like a bad movie…

_Detective Hoyt did you give Jordan Cavanaugh that file on Sarah Sealer. _The captain had snapped, Woody had been studying a file at his desk calmly he looked up at the man that loomed over his desk, Woody was tired and cross, he propped his feet up against his desk and looked at the captain coldly.

"_What if I did?" _he hissed, the captain looked at him, his pudgy face turning crimson with each breath.

"_IF you did, I would have to ask for your badge and gun detective… you can't jeopardize the case because you have itthe hotsfor the lead ME."_ At that moment Woody snapped, standing up, removing his gun and badge, slammed them down on the desk with such force that people turned and gaped at him as he shook his head in disgusted and stormed out of the precinct.

As he packed he remembered something Jordan had told him, so long ago, her voice seemed a distant memory.

_Home is right behind you._

Those words often leaked into his memories, memories he was determined to shut out forever.

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**_Present Day_**

Woody could feel his chin tremble; now, he had no idea where home was.


	3. Still Chasing After Ghosts

"Good morning Caroline." Woody stammered taking a drag off of his cigarette, "Gotta cup of coffee round here?" the waitress smiled, at Woody, stuffing her pad of paper and pencil into her apron.

"For you Woody, anything." She said with a hoarse voice. "Well, this is late even for you." She muttered a moment later, setting a flat cup of coffee in front of Woody.

"Yeah well I needed to think…" he whispered, taking another drag from his cigarette.

"In twenty minutes you need to think somewhere else." She wandered into the back, throwing her apron on a rack near the double swinging doors. Leaving Woody alone to think, in the last seven years he had come here to think, be alone, or just to rest. The waitresses were nice, and the owner would let him smoke inside, depending on if anyone else was in there or not. He tapped the flimsy cardboard pack that was only half full against the counter as he thought. He started smoking about five years earlier, found that he thought of her less with a cigarette in his hand.

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Jordan stared down at the body of Andrea O'Malley, a woman who was slaughtered, her daughter kidnapped and for all they knew was probably dead. She felt tears sting her eyes to her horror she allowed them to flood her face, old wounds were being resurrected with the return of Woody. She remembered how they would talk for hours, about anything or nothing at all. But she didn't trust him all the way, not yet anyways, still holding him at arms length, knowing he would always be there.

"Jordan?" she snapped her head up to be met by Sydney's worried pair of brown eyes.

"Yeah?" she asked, wiping her tears away from her face quickly, sniffling.

"Uh, Woody's here." He said hesitantly.

"Great" she groaned, snapping her latex gloves off.

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"Woody!?" a voice called behind him in surprise, he turned to meet Lily's warm green eyes, she seemed to glow. He smiled at seeing his old friend.

"Hey Lil! I haven't seen you in… God, five years!" he yelled in astonishment. She hugged him enthusiastically

"Has it been that long? Oh, my god, Woody, you look great!!" she wrapped her arms around her tummy self-consciously. He pointed knowingly.

"Someone has a bun in the oven?" he asked with a smirk, she shoved him lightly.

"Maybe." She rubbed her small pouch and smiled. "What about you Hoyt, last I heard you were dating that cop from Gloucester, what was her name, Sherri? She snag you yet, come on, you've got to have a couple of kids by now… at least a wife." He shook his head.

"None of the above," her jaw dropped in astonishment.

"What about you?" he teased, "Who's the lucky guy?" her grin grew.

"Bug…" she held out her left hand for him to inspect. "Going on four years… we invited you, but the invitation came back."

"Oh," he smiled "I moved, towards Cambridge, closer to the seventh."

"Hey! Hoyt, Get in here!" Jordan called from the doorway. He shook his head at her.

"Bye Lily, it was good talking to you, we'll have to get together sometime, tell Bug I said hi." He quickly ran towards Jordan.

"Was that Woody?" Bug asked, coming up behind Lily.

"Yeah… you know, it amazes me, in seven years, nothings really changed, he's still chasing after her." She said, bringing a balled up hand to her mouth and pressing a smile into her knuckles.

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"Morning _Doctor Cavanaugh_" Woody said mockingly, coming inside autopsy one, looking down at the body with a disgusted look. "Yuck, you know, after seven years of being gone… I forgot how gross bodies are." He said, she smiled knowingly.

"Wanna hold the spleen?" she asked holding it out. He backed up.

"I don't think so…" he said defensively, holding out his hands, she chuckled, looking up at him, for a moment she was lost, she caught herself though.

"Time of death appears to be somewhere between 12:30 and 3:00 am three days ago." She mumbled as professionally as she could. He nodded.

"O-Okay." He looked at her as thought he wanted to say more, but his lips only tightened and he nodded once. Then with a hesitant look back at her. "Jordan… um, can we talk somewhere?"

"We can talk here." She said flatly, not looking him in the eyes.

"Okay." He snapped, "About the night I left…"

"Woody!" she warned, "I could care less about what has happened to you since then, the fact is _you _left, not _me_ so, you made your bed-"

"Damn it Jordan, save the guilt trip on your next victim, alright, sure I have regrets about the way I left." He started loudly, lowering his voice an octave. "Forget it." He snorted, turning to leave.

"No Woody, I'm curious, what it is!" she shouted her voice hoarse, threatening to reveal her real emotions by cracking.

They both began to scream at each other in the same instant, not bothering to breath between curses. Nigel ran in, dropping what ever it was that he was doing.

"Alright, Alright, break it up you two!" he pushed his way in-between them. "God, just like old times." He snapped knowingly, Woody seemed to brush him off, while Jordan's eyes seemed to blaze, Woody ignored her, sitting in the nearest chair. "Dear God, you two are adults right, how long has it been, seven years? Can't you two at least be civil to each other?" Woody nodded reluctantly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his suit jacket.

Nigel breathed out and stepped backwards, with that Woody grasped the file that Jordan held from her hand. "I'm not done with that!" she yelled after him. "Woody!"

"I'll give it back when I'm done." He said dully, walking out of the room. Jordan and Nigel shared a look, he saw the look of pure obstanance fill her eyes.

"Jordan don't." he warned.

She moved quickly towards the other side of the room, sidling over an unoccupied autopsy table as she watched Woody turn the corner. She stood at the door a moment, until the exact right time, and flung open the door.

_**Thud.**_

"Thank you Jordan… Thank you very much." Woody snapped sarcastically from the floor.

"Anytime buddy…"

"So she had muddy water in her lungs and a hair on her body, I think we should go check out the sanitation department, because it turns out, the hair is a rat hair, she was in some type of sewer system." Nigel supplied, walking off his head bobbing in amusement.

"Looks like we have some legwork to do G-man, lets get out of here." She stepped over the grimacing Woody, who silently kicked himself for crossing Jordan.


	4. Jim's Mini Mart

Jordan stared out of the car window, her eyes avoiding Woody, who seemed to be cursing under his breath as he drove. She would sneak a look at the ragged looking scar above his eyebrow every time she thought he wasn't looking. Rain fell in sheets, the windshield wipers screeched. She felt so angry with him, yet somehow, she could since this loneliness seeping from him, like there was something he wasn't telling her. That was to be expected, in seven years people change, though she still wasn't sure if people could change.

"So… you married yet?" she asked, sounding more bitter than she meant to. He shook his head and kept his eyes straight forward. She chewed on her lip, leaning against the car door for some comfort, getting as far away as she could.

"What about you?" he asked in a low voice, surprising Jordan. She shook her head.

"Nah, you know me… can't even keep a plant alive." He laughed, for the first time she saw a glint of what Woody used to be, she saw the old cockiness that flitted threw his crystalline blue eyes for a millisecond. He quickly swallowed, and that flash of hope, that light, disappeared.

"So, you?" she asked in a vain attempt to keep the conversation cool for a while, pretend that nothing was wrong for a moment, and relive some good memories. He shrugged his shoulders.

"Um… I was close to getting married two years ago, but, ah, it didn't work out… turns out, one night an old girlfriend called, and when I got home Theresa wanted to know how Tiffany got our new number… she threw a vodka bottle threw my glass door." Jordan chuckled, as she did, Woody cell phone came alive, opening it seemed to snap her out of her reverie, remembering what he had done to her.

"This is Hoyt." He said softly, laughing at whatever the other party had said.

"So Woody, you got Doctor Cavanaugh with you?" Shiloh asked eagerly, Woody looked over to Jordan something that resembled regret? Or was it disappointment?

"Yeah she's here." He said lowering his voice. Shiloh let out a snort along with a tinkle of a laugh. "God, the tension in that room when you two saw each other… it was like at my wedding when my sister got so drunk that she thought it was my Bat Mitzvah and started stuffing twenties in my bra." Woody laughed,

"Shi, listen can you meet us at the department of sanitation… turns out our victim had muddy water in her lungs and a rat hair on her clothing, we may be able to piece this thing together and find her kid." He could hear Shiloh click her heels together.

"Aye Cap." She teased, he hung it the phone, and they resumed the awkward and bitter silence.

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_**Seven years earlier…6pm **_

The rain seemed to bounce off the sidewalk, Jordan knew something was wrong, he couldn't say what exactly, but fear seemed to crackle everywhere in the air. Soaked down to her skin, shivering violently, her hair clumped in tangles down her back. She walked, one foot in front of the other, slowly, committing the sights of Pearl Street to memory. She paused, looking up at her window, the light was on, she could see a shadow moving frantically above… Woody. They had lived together only a few months, but it was a start for her. She almost didn't want to move, scared to spook him. She had just come from the precinct; Sarah Sealer was safe in jail for conspiracy to commit murder, as well as her Gardener. It was over. Something wasn't right, Eddie told her that Woody had lost his job… this wasn't going to go over well.

Her footsteps echoed in the hall, skin blotched from the rain and wind, rain dripping from her fingertips. She wanted to open her door, but her fingers wouldn't work, she felt so numb. Mustering all the courage she could, she knocked, hoping he would answer.

He answered, his eyes were bloodshot, the smell of alcohol was redolent in the tiny apartment. Her mouth formed words but she couldn't speak, she pointed at the open suitcase and brought a ghostly white hand to her mouth, he was leaving. He stumbled around for a good ten minutes, gathering things that were his, clothing, pictures, small items, his toothbrush. Her hands dropped as she silently watched him, neither of them talked, neither had anything to say. As he shut his suitcase, zipping it closed, tears began to fall down her white cheeks and down her nose, pink from the cold. Woody stood at the door for a long second, she could feel his eyes burning into her back as if it was him, trying to will her to say something. Then the door slammed shut.

That slam seemed to echo through the silent apartment, snapping Jordan from her dream like state. After she listened to his footsteps disappearing, she thought, of something he had said to her so long ago.

"_People fall in love, people fall out of love, you go where your heart takes you."_

She turned on her heels and raced out the door, running down the stairs two at a time, she flung open the door and raced out in the street, all she could see were his headlights, blurred together with the rain. "Woody!" she shouted once, but he turned the corner, and disappeared from view.

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_**Present day… Jim's Mini Mart**_

"Alright Cavanaugh, stay in the car… ah, what the hell, why do I even ask?" he hopped out of his SUV and strolled into the mini mart, several times she saw his reflection in the window, browsing the candy section… then he disappeared from view. She noticed his gun sitting on the floorboard, a book of matches sitting in the ashtray. Yet his car was so clean, she remembered his old beater car he had, it was never clean.

She checked to make sure that Woody wasn't coming and opened his glove box, thumbing threw the papers did nothing to tell her where he had been in the last seven years. Slamming it shut, she leaned back in her seat, trying to see Woody's tall, muscular frame.

"Where the hell is he?" She asked to herself, something felt eerily wrong to her, much as it did the night he left. She swallowed the lump that gathered in her raw feeling throat. Slowly, she climbed carefully out of the car, Inching closer to the glass doors. She wasn't paying attention when she opened them, listening to the rain's rhythm and the chime of the bell as she entered the slick floored convenient store.

When Jordan turned to face the counter. She met the barrel of a gun. "Who the hell are you??" a voice asked, she couldn't see his face, he was wearing a ski mask. She stood speechless, hands raised in the air.

"Who the hell are you?" she sniped back, he shook his head.

"Damn it Jordan! I thought I told you to wait in the car!" Jordan glared at where Woody stood, the strung out bank robber had two accomplices that Jordan could see, one was holding a shotgun to Woody's head, she felt a crackle of raw fear run up her spine.

She opened her mouth to yell at Woody, but somehow the words wouldn't form, memories of her intruder more than nine years before ran threw her head, she would not be a victim. Yet her feet wouldn't work, her life wasn't the only one at stake… there were seven other hostages, her and Woody not included, and there was something about the way that the man held that gun to Woody's head, it made something in her stiffen, something inside told her that she just got him back, there was no way that he would kill him, she would never allow it. The one that held the gun to her head shoved her towards the scared group of people; Woody grasped her arm and yanked her to the back of the crowd. She stood stunned as the men paced back and forth.

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"Woody? Hey, Hoyt?" Shiloh sighed, placing her radio back down on the cradle. "Chief, I can't get a hold of detective Hoyt, he was suppose to meet me at the sanitation department half an hour ago… I got caught up with a witness, what do you want me to do?" The chief thought it over for a moment and sighed.

"Get your ass down to the sanitation department." Shiloh nodded and grabbed her keys, _Boy, _she thought _If I find Hoyt, he is one dead son of a bitch._


	5. Oliver, Sam and Charlie

Jordan sat on the slick floor, her chin resting on her knees. Woody was in front of her, she could see the back of his head and a suit clad shoulder threw the throng of people. The tension and desperation seemed to crackle through the entire room, the men paced nervously.

"Uh, Ollie, what are we supposed to do now?" the man with the shotgun asked, the leader, who was smaller than his counterparts glared at him through the ski mask.

"Damnit Sam, now they know are names!!!" the leader hissed, Jordan had to bite her lip to prevent from laughing. Slowly, the leader pulled the ski mask up over his face, Jordan was surprised at how young he looked, his dark hair was profuse and thick, deep, chocolate eyes set deep into his skull, skin was unnaturally white. "Okay Folks, we promise this won't take to long… just stick tight and we'll get you outta here soon enough." He paced back and forth nervously for a minute.

"Okay, I want everybody to get in this corner over here… watch yourself." He helped a middle aged woman to her feet. Jordan and Woody shared a look, she wanted to laugh at the way Woody raised his eyebrow at the short little leader.

"Alright… I'm gonna go over here and talk to Sam, if any of you move, I will have to kill someone, I don't wanna do that, I'm catholic, I don't wanna shoot nobody." He walked over to whisper in the others ear.

Jordan leaned into Woody, relishing in having an excuse to lean in and remember the familiar scent of his cologne. "Woody." Her voice cracked to her horror. He wrapped a strong arm around her back, no words were spoken, none were needed.

"I need a drink." The middle aged woman spouted, leaning against the refrigerator door. Jordan took in the other hostages. The middle aged woman, a young Spanish gentleman, a kid and his girlfriend and a man, woman and their little girl. The little girl's eyes were wide with fear as she clutched to a worn teddy bear. Jordan smiled at her, the little girl smiled back.

"Okay folks here's how its gonna go… were gonna hang out here for awhile." His voice became antsy as a squad car pulled up, a navy colored Sudan close behind it. "Uh oh, Damnit, cops are here!" he ducked behind the counter. Woody perked up, he could see Shiloh, her face damp with rain. Suddenly a shot rang out, everyone ducked. Jordan laid herself flat on the floor, the middle aged woman cursed under her breath. Jordan's breath caught in her throat.

"Damn it Sam!!!" the stout leader screamed at his thick headed partner, smacking him upside the head. Woody watched as Shiloh and the other cop scrambled for cover.

"Sorry Boss." Sam choked. Ollie, as Sam called the leader, patted Sam on the back.

"Hey, Charlie, where the hell did you get this dude?" Ollie stammered to the third man who had been quietly assessing the situation from where he stood, shot gun in hand.

"I'm just winging it like you said Ollie!" Sam countered.

"Alright wing-nut, stay by Charlie… give me your gun, Sam, you are lucky you're a lousy shot." He snapped, yanking the gun out of Sam's hand. "Sorry folks, looks like we'll be here for awhile, make yourselves comfortable." Jordan groaned, sitting up.

Woody looked at her with liquid eyes. "You alright." Something about the way he said that sickened her. Peeling away from him she regarded him coolly for a moment before answering.

"I'm fine Detective." He rolled his eyes dramatically.

"Back to Detective are we now?" he bit out sarcastically, "You know its been seven years can't we at least be civil?" he asked. She suddenly looked enraged.

"Woody, don't you dare patronize me… you left without so much as a goodbye, what you'd think you'd come back seven years later and everything would be fine?" her voice was strident and growing an octave.

"I'm not asking for forgiveness Jor… Doctor Cavanaugh." He stammered, "Just that we keep the past in the past for once."

Jordan snorted "Hardly sounds like me." The middle aged woman grabbed a bag of chips from the shelf and preceded to open them. The clerk yelled at her in Spanish, the woman looked confused. "He said you have to pay for that." Jordan supplied helpfully. The woman gaped.

"Okay folks… since we'll be here for quite awhile why don't we introduce ourselves?" Everyone looked appalled. He sighed and started off "I'm Oliver… Ollie for short." He pointed at the couple who sat snuggled together against the wall. They looked reluctant but slowly answered.

"I'm Mitch, this is my Girlfriend Casey." He pointed to the tiny blonde girl cuddled to his shoulder. Jordan had a bad feeling about him, his slicked back look and demeanor made her uncomfortable.

"I'm Diane." The middle aged, thin woman with the bag of chips said. It moved to the couple that sat stunned, they were the closest to Jordan.

"Uh…" was all the woman said before she broke down into tears, her husband held her close and stuttered "This is my wife Eve and my daughter Sarah." He slicked back the little girls blond hair affectionately, whispering something comforting into her ear. Then came Jordan's turn. Something in her throat closed up, swallowing her fear she spoke.

"I'm Jordan Cavanaugh…. This is Woody Hoyt." She stammered nervously, hearing the sounds of sirens in the distance.

"Wait a minute…" Jordan closed her eyes when she heard the man's high pitched voice. "I know you… and you." He said pointing his gun filled hand first at Woody then at Jordan. "You're that Cop and that medical examiner I've seen on TV… Small world."

"Yeah… real small." Jordan muttered under her breath.

"Hey." He said to Woody, "What kind of a name is Woody for a cop anyways?" Woody smiled sarcastically.

"What kind of a name is Oliver for a armed robber?" Jordan had to smile. Just as Oliver began to respond, a loud, hoarse voice rang out.

"_This is the Boston Police Department!!" _

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Note: Short and not very descriptive, I know, sorry, just trying to fill some stuff in before we get to the good chapters.


	6. Halfway Between Heaven And Hell

Chapter 6: Half way between Heaven and Hell

Note: I love this chapter, I have no idea why, I just love it.

"Oh Great," Oliver rubbed his thick hair with a shaky hand, closing his dishwater colored eyes. "This can't be good for my ulcers…" he commented. Jordan looked around, people weren't as tense as they were mere moments ago, something about Ollie didn't strike as a killer, although Jordan knew that things weren't always what they seemed. Woody was living testimony to that, she had yet to find out what was in his past that kept bubbling up in his eyes, something lifeless and dull, something he had been hiding.

"Uh, Boss, what are we suppose to do now?" Sam asked, swallowing hard, a pained look on his face. Woody looked around nervously, his icy blue eyes darting around the tiny room, Jordan knew he was assessing the situation, she watched him a million times doing the exact same thing at crime scenes. He would walk the perimeter, making sure any evidence was handled, witnesses and victims were treated with respect. Jordan always knew that was what made him a fantastic cop, the simple act of caring, it was a great gift, she had seen many of callous cold cops, Woody wasn't one of them, each case seemed to hit a nerve. She always guessed that was what made them such a great team, or as Garret had once affectionately dubbed them "Batman and Robin, without the stupid tights."

Suddenly a rush of emotions had come over her all she could do was blink. What had happened to him? How could he seem so distant? She noticed the scar once again, her hands itched to touch it, but she kept them out in front of her firmly, holding fast. His eyes seemed like wells, deep and stony in a way, yet she knew there was more.

Woody could tell that Jordan was looking at him, he took in a deep breath, Oliver didn't seem the type to kill for the fun of it, nor did he look like a criminal mastermind, in some way Woody wanted to just tackle him and get this charade over with, the sensible, reliable part of his brain had already over assessed and over analyzed this. It wasn't smart, especially with thing one and two over there with shotguns… his father's murder played out in his head, to his alarm.

That morning seemed like a bad movie, the officer knocking on his screen door, having to tell Cal that their father was never coming home. How some 18 year old punk ended a life for eighty four dollars. Some part of Woody was glad, never again would he sit in his room nursing wounds from an abusive father that never knew when to stop, even after his son lay crumpled on the floor, beaten almost to death.

Woody cried when his dad died sure, but another part of him absolutely hated him, with a dark hatred that seemed to stem only from an abused child. He had gone through a lot, he was never allowed to grieve for his mother. To his father, Woody and Cal reminded him too much of his wife, their mother, and he used to try and beat her out of them.

Woody had vowed never to feel that helpless again, he would never be labeled weak… though often his fathers words rang in his head, pushing him farther, working him harder, and in the end drove him beyond the breaking point many times.

Jordan had that deer-caught-in-the-headlights-look, the last time he saw that look was when her brother was standing on that ledge looking over the murky Charles River, begging her to join him. Their eyes met for a brief second… then she looked away.

Woody had always regretted the way he went, she was standing there the whole time, but then nothing would have kept him in Boston, nothing, not even her… he needed to go somewhere familiar and warm… but when he got there, he relized it wasn't home anymore, he realized that it was different, the people were cold to him, unapologetic and sick-like. He couldn't stay, nothing was what it seemed.

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_**Seven years earlier…**_

Woody closed the phone booths flimsy door in a attempt to drown out the noise of the highway and factory not to far away. Brushing a hand threw his dirty hair, sending a slew of dust into the oily air.

"Cal… Cal, pick up baby brother." He demanded, jamming the phone in-between his shoulder and ear. "Well, I just wanted to say that I'm home for a little while I catch my breath for a bit, then I'll go back to Boston… maybe transfer to New York or Philly…" he snapped himself out of his reverie in an instant. "I'll stop by later to see if your home… Got to go, bye." Slamming the phone down on the cradle and for a moment, imagined himself in Boston, he was five minutes from Kewaunee… Somehow he felt farther away from where he was suppose to be, not closer.

Opening the door and allowing the once annoying sounds of the nearby freeway to fill his senses. The rest stop was littered with trash, cars and pavement. The smell of oil and metal was redolent in the air from the nearby factories, totally drowning out the smell of the wide river not far off. Climbing into his "beater car" as Jordan liked to call it.. drove away, feeling like he left a piece of his heart in Boston.

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Jordan rubbed her eyes, _The_ _negotiator should be coming soon, _she thought to herself with growing dismay, it was taking them far to long to get things going. The little girl sat not to far off, she didn't seem the slightest bit scared, she just sat looking out the window at the blue and red lights outside with a strange, calm trance.

Jordan looked over at Woody, he sat with his back to her now, she could tell he felt helpless at the situation, unable to do anything. She inched toward him, placing a soft hand on his shoulder, she could feel him tense under her touch.

"Woody…" she whispered, like an olive branch she was holding out to him. He shook her off, she could tell he was in pain so she swallowed her anger and made one more attempt. "_Woody_" she repeated, he whirled around.

"I cannot believe you left my service revolver in the car!" he said in a loud, angry whisper.

Something in Jordan snapped, "Are you implying that this was my fault?" she asked appalled to death by the tone in his voice. Like on cue, as before, the obstinacies grew louder, most of the time they didn't know what the other was even saying. The other hostages groaned, suddenly Oliver was in-between them.

"DEAR GOD WILL YOU TWO SHUT THE HELL UP, I FEEL LIKE I KIDNAPPED MY PARENTS!!!!" he shouted in his thick Boston accent, rubbing his head methodically, "Alright, I want you by the liquor over there…" he said to Woody, "And I want you over by the frozen fish sticks, go now, before I loose my temper!!" Jordan and Woody shared a hateful glance.

"Over actor." Jordan said spitefully

"Hag." He retorted,

"Last word freak." She snapped.

"NOW!!!" Oliver demanded, pointing them each to their separate corners.

"What, he gets booze and I get fish sticks?" Jordan asked quizzically, in a vain attempt to lighten the mood, Diane, the housewife laughed bitterly, like she found something ironic or amusing, everyone glared at her with puzzled faces. She saw them staring and said bitterly.

"My husband left me this morning." Suddenly the phone rang. startling everyone.

"Hello?" Oliver said after picking up the receiver with trepidation.

"Hi Sir, this is Shiloh Tanner, I'm with the Boston Police department… I'm here to negotiate the release of some hostages…"


	7. Confessions pt 1

Chapter 6: Confessions part 1

Note: I was going to make dear Oliver Bi-polar but decided against it. Now he's just gonna be good ole' Ollie.

A/N: The story Ollie tells about his girlfriend is going to sound very John Q,

"What about it?" Oliver asked with a long sigh, staring out at the flood of police cars and news crews outside. Something in his eyes reminded Jordan of herself at one time, a hazy, scarred look that lay like a fog over the eyes. She knew somehow, it didn't have to be that way, some part of her learned to let go… especially after Woody took off, she learned the longer she held on, the more she would be hurt in the long run.

The rain fell in a thick mist, bleeding with the blue and red lights outside. Oliver was yelling now, something about how he wanted someone to listen, someone to care… Jordan found herself wishing the same thing a long time ago, but gave up after nothing could be done, no one was listening.

Oliver pointed the gun towards Woody, startling him. "Detective Tanner, wants to talk to you." He said almost begrudgingly. Woody stood slowly, deliberately looking to Jordan; her eyes met his for a split second. He took the bright red phone from Oliver's hands and put the receiver to his ear, pausing a moment before speaking.

"Hello?" he said his voice cracking.

"Hey Slugger." He smiled; Jordan noticed how he used to smile like that when he saw her. The way he smiled you could hear it in his voice, almost over flowing with excitement.

"How you doing Shi?" he asked.

"Listen Woody, he's going to release everyone else except you and Jordan… is that okay?" Woody sighed, looking over at Jordan, he wasn't about to put her life in danger, he couldn't, no matter how bitter the words that came out of his mouth.

"Are you sure that he won't let Jordan out?" he asked skeptically. Shiloh heard the hesitation in his voice.

"Don't be getting any ideas in your head, Wood, we need to get as many people out as possible." She lectured.

"Yes mother." He snapped.

"Woody… Garret Macy and crew are here, they want you to tell Jordan to be safe and careful." He listened a little harder and could hear Garrets voice in the background, he smiled.

"Tell Doc not to worry, we have everything under control." Shiloh sighed.

"Yes sir… be safe."

He paused, collecting himself. "Yeah you too." With that he hung up… Oliver looked at him expectantly. "She said you can keep Jordan and I… just let everyone else go." Jordan looked at Woody, her eyes wide. She thought he had changed. But now, she could see, his eyes were still blue, his smile was the same, he was in fact the same, just sadder somehow.

"Jordan, Garret and the gang want you to know that they're right outside, they want you to be safe." She nodded, tears threatening to fall down her face.

Oliver paced, running his hand threw his hair in thought. After what seemed an eternity he opened the door. They could hear weapons being raised concurrently. Diane swallowed hard, but slowly one by one, they all filed out.

"Good luck…" he said as the last one disappeared into the torrent of noise. Woody lingered, Oliver smiled at Jordan "Get out of here." She looked at Woody and shook her head.

"Jordan, don't be stupid, go." She remembered the last time he told her that.

"_Jordan… Jordan, don't be stupid, come home… she killed him, that's it."_

All those years of running, to end up here?

"I'm staying." She said, tilting her chin stubbornly. Woody knew from the expression on her face she wasn't budging.

"You sure?" Oliver asked, Sam and Charlie looked at her like she was crazy.

"I've never been so sure of anything in my life." She took a step towards Woody and silently kissed his scar, she had to stand on her tip toes to reach his forehead. Woody met her honey eyes and for a fleeting moment, he remembered how they danced, how they used to laugh, they were best friends… all of the years were washed away, he remembered how she used to be, his Jordan.

"Okay people… I need you guys to take a seat… somewhere safe… they're gonna listen now aren't they…" the last fragment of his speech seemed distant, soft, like he was speaking to someone far away.

"Listen to what?" Jordan asked, he went on like he didn't hear a thing.

"Sam, Charlie, find some rope or something to barricade the doors so no one can get in." Sam and Charlie followed his directions… only then did he turn to Jordan and Woody.

"You know." He stooped down to get a better look at Woody and Jordan. "Now that they have one of their own in here… they'll care…"

"What will they care about?" Woody asked knowing it was a loaded question. Oliver smiled, a long far off smile. Jordan noticed how young he was, barely over twenty. His dark hair profuse, and his olive skin even. His dark eyes seemed lifeless and worried. He swallowed hard and smiled.

"They'll give Tatiana what she needs…" his gaze fell to the floor, when he looked up his hands were trembling. "My Girlfriend… she has…um, she has cancer… but she can't pay the money that she needs for the surgery… I've tried everything… I've talked to news crews, sold my house… car…. Nothings working… no one's listening, so I'm gonna… make them listen." Woody felt something go still deep inside of him, he remembered how frail his own mother looked as she was dying… he had no other memories of her, only this sick woman he barely knew, he remembered those memories well though, he forced himself to remember her, if he didn't who would?

Jordan allowed a tear to fall down her face, a rouge tear, Woody found himself wiping it away, She looked at him and to Woody's astonishment she smiled, and sat a little closer to him.

"Your good people…" Oliver said after a long time, "Sorry I got ya'll into this mess."

"I hope your girlfriend gets better Oliver." Jordan said softly, he shook his head fighting off tears. He opened his mouth to say something but Charlie and Sam emerged with two heavy chains.

"Will this work Boss?" Sam asked, holding out a thick, heavy chain. Oliver nodded and got up to help them.

"Miss Cavanaugh, you sure you don't wanna leave… I'm sure your family will want to know your safe." Jordan shook her head obstinately. Woody hugged her a little tighter. Oliver looked out the window, the reflections from the scopes on the snipers guns outside were reflecting off his tan skin.

"It's gonna be a long night." He whispered to no one in particular.


	8. Confessions pt 2

Confessions pt 2

Woody had that glassy look, his eyes deep in thought. Jordan often thought of the night he left, when she was all alone in her house, a empty feeling washing over her like warm water in a bathtub. It was the last few months he was living in Boston that she noticed a subtle change in his daily routine, small things like the way he washed his face in the morning, or the way he tied his tie.

When he had come to Boston the first thing that came to Jordan's mind was he had to be on something, it wasn't normal for someone to be that happy, that easy going, that naïve. But something about him drew her nearer, some underlying sense of hopelessness that he disguised with cheer, she had never seen it before, how someone could be that happy and that sad at the same time, almost like he programmed himself to be someone he wasn't. It was a comfortable routine for him, the pretending to be someone else thing, it was safe.

The night he left Jordan entered her apartment knowing he was angry, but she had no idea what that night would lead to, the sense of changelessness that hung threw the air. How time stood still, as he disappeared around that corner. And when he walked back into the morgue she felt that changelessness once again, maybe it hung on him, like the smell of cheap cologne. He looked so desperate now, so angry, so frustrated.

She leaned closer to him, rubbing the back of his neck, she could feel him settle against her, like a weight had been taken off his shoulders. He sagged for the slightest second, letting out a small sigh. "Woody?" she asked "Why did you leave me?" He looked away from her for a moment, his eyes averting hers for a long moment. Staring out at the mist that filmed over the windows, the lights shined outside, making the inky night bright as day.

After a long moment, glancing to Oliver and the other two, making sure they were out of earshot, he murmured. "I've always wanted to be a cop… since before I can remember." He smiled sadly in remembrance. "When I was four… my mom got me a badge… she wouldn't let me have a toy gun though…" he looked down at the floor and swallowed hard. Jordan stood mesmerized, waiting. "That was a month before she died… the last feeling of happiness I felt with her, you know… without the tubes and the medication… she glowed."

Jordan had known his mother had died of cancer when he was young. After a drunken game of twenty-one questions, she had gotten a small bit of his history, he had yet to talk about his father, she had never pushed that, for once she didn't push.

"And when I got my shield… I felt I had made her proud… done something that wouldn't disappoint her…. And that night, I knew I had to choose between you and my job that I had sacrificed everything for… I was completely prepared to choose you… I did, except, it didn't feel right, I didn't feel right, I had to find a way to…" he paused, searching for words out of air it seemed "make it right."

Jordan nodded and buried her head into his shoulder. She had always thought it was her that had drove him away, _why not? _She had berated herself _I drive everyone away. _What he had told her, it was him who was to blame… he left, not her. She wanted to yell at him, tell him how much pain he had caused her. But something on his face told her that he was being punished enough.

"What happened to your head?" she asked, nodding towards the ragged scar that ran down from his hairline to his eyebrow, barely discernable, yet it ran down a sickly white and soft pinkish color, a strange color that she hadn't seen before.

He smiled nervously. "This old thing?" he teased, suddenly catching himself quickly and turned somber. "About three years ago, I was on an undercover bust… I was the first one through the door as usual… and the man inside was not a nice guy… cussing and spitting… he was on PCP, when doesn't make people very friendly… apparently he wasn't in the mood for company, so I took a toaster to the head."

Jordan couldn't constrain the laugh caught in her throat. She giggled, "A toaster huh?"

He played along, with the first Woody Hoyt 100 watt smile she had seen in a very long time. "Not quite as glamorous as a bullet, but…" his face suddenly grew serious again. "I'm sorry about the way I left Jo, If I could go back…" she stopped his flow of words with a finger pressed into his lips.

"Shh Wood, its water under the bridge…" he started to protest, but before he could move, she had placed her lips gently against his, bringing him closer to her.

It was different from the kiss they had shared in the desert, softer somehow and more comfort than anything… they were two people searching for sanctuary in a harsh and cold world, so alike, yet so different at the same time.

Slowly, the sound of wolf whistles brought them out of their revere, when they looked up Charlie and Sam were smiling at them through their ski masks. Jordan blushed and buried her head into Woody's shoulder. Woody smiled and winked.

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Oliver paced the back room, looking at the phone as if he expected it to ring. He debated whether to pick it up or not Some part of him knew he wasn't getting out of this, but at least now, he would know that he did all he could for her, his Tatiana, his Ana.

Slowly he picked up the bright red phone. "I need an outside line." He demanded, trying to sound as calculating as possible.

Deliberately dialing the numbers, knowing that possibly he would never dial them again… listened to it ring… one… two… three.

"Hello?" came a weak voice at the other end, he felt tears bubble up in his throat. He swallowed them and slowly spoke, savoring her voice.

"Hey Babe, Its me…"

"Ollie, what the hell are you do'n huh? Cops are everywhere, telling me that you're holed up in a mini mart downtown." She sounded like she didn't quite believe what she was hearing, another half sounded like she expected it.

"Honey, I have to make them listen… I have too." He tried to amend what he was doing, trying to make it sound justified, and right.

"Your crazy Oliver you know that." He could hear the tears that laced her voice.

"I've done crazier." He tried to tease, to desperately rid himself of the guilt.

"Baby, I don't care what you've done… but please get out of there, we'll sort it out, I promise… just surrender." This enraged him.

"I am not going to sit around and watch you die Ana, you hear me? No that is not something that I'm gonna do… so you know, just, get that idea out of your head." He seethed with venom.

She paused for a moment, as if contemplating what he was doing. "Ollie, please… be careful."

He smiled, a lone tear falling down his face "Hey honey, your talking to mister careful." She giggled sadly. "I gotta go babe." He whispered after a uncomfortable moment.

"Okay." She whispered softly. He paused, swallowing the tears that threatened to fall.

"I love you Tatiana."

After a long pause he finally heard the words he had desperately needed to hear. "I love you too Oliver." He set the phone back on the receiver gently, standing in pure untouched silence for a moment… for a moment he could go back before any of this happened and remember her… when she was alive and vibrant, as vivid as the sunset on a clear day.

For a moment these memories flashed in his head… he remembered her like she used to be… colorful. He picked up the receiver once more, his voice, deeper than usual, filled with purpose. "I wanna talk to detective Tanner… NOW!"


	9. Regrets

Note: Sorry this took so long, I was in Palo Alto for a trip to Stanford.

"Listen, you know we can't do that," Shiloh argued with the man, pushing Nigel out of the way as he tried to listen in.

"I think you can… you will," he paused for a half a second, trying to sound as angry as he could, and a little less distraught. "If you wanna see your medical examiner and your Detective again." With that he slammed the phone down on the receiver.

"What was that?!" Nigel asked, troubled, his pale face even lighter. Shiloh sighed.

"Listen Doctor Townsend, you'll have to cool it… this guy is asking for something that's impossible… I can't allow it, and I can tell you the chief won't go for it either, we don't negotiate with armed robbers."

Nigel let out a dismissive noise, shaking his head in disbelief and disgust. "We need to get someone in there…"

Shiloh let out a grunt, turning to meet the lanky doctor that was more than a head taller than her. "Doctor Townsend, we have to do this by the book, I'm sorry… I wish I could do more, but he is asking that his girlfriend be flown to Harvard University hospital to have more test done… where are we gonna land a helicopter… think about it Doctor, it won't work." She pulled her already tight fitting sweatshirt around her stomach comfortingly. "I'm sorry." She whispered, he nodded grimly, and swallowed hard.

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Jordan watched the rain shower down on the cars and people, dawn was approaching, she could see streaks of stormy grey and dull grey-green stretching across the sky. Woody was sitting next to her, his knees brought up to his chest, chewing at furiously at his cuticles. She played with the tips of his hair gently. How many times had she thought she was pushing him down, only she wasn't pushing, he was already on the floor, she had been kicking him while he was down. A surge of guilt fluttered threw her veins, Woody caught her looking at him and smiled, a little timidly, brushing a strand of chestnut hair from her cocoa eyes and raising an eyebrow.

"What?" he asked.

"Did you hate me?" she asked her voice cracking, "I mean after all that… I just need to know if you hated me or if you hate me or what…because I have all these questions Wood, I have all these questions I never got answered." He stopped her gush of words by placing a gentle finger against her lips, sticky with gloss.

"Jordan… I never hated you… it was more like I hated myself, for doing that to you… the way I left and all… I don't know." He paused, slipping his sunglasses that had been resting in his hair down over his indigo eyes, continuing his deadpan stare out of the window at the swat team that stood outside in the mist, they had been undetectable in the stark emptiness of night time, and had now appeared magically with the impending light. "It seemed like a good idea at the time." He finished dully, swallowing painfully. After a long uncomfortable silence Woody finally asked her the question he felt run through his mind often. "Did you hate me?"

She leaned a little closer to him. "I felt… confused, alone, and… yeah, for a while there I think I did hate you… but the feeling left as quick as it came… I knew I brought it on…. You told me to back off, it was a high profile case, the press was all over it and it was a touchy matter with the chief that if he found out that you gave me that file, you'd loose your job, and what did I do?"

"Its over now Jo, can we forget it please." He begged listlessly, her words brought on a surge of memories.

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**_Seven years earlier…_**

"I can't Jordan, you know that." Woody said to the receiver of the phone. He could almost see her roll her eyes. The pounding of the rain against the pavement could be heard in the background.

"Woody… please… I can prove she didn't do it, all I need is that police report on her husbands domestic violence wrap sheet." Woody tapped his pen against his desk steadily. Looking to the corner of his desk, a picture of them sat there, undusted, unkempt. She had her arm around his waist, he was pressing a kiss into her temple.

It had been barely three months since she had slain her demons and buried them. At least enough to where she could function semi normally. But there would be a case here and there, it would grasp her attention and send her on a rampage, taking everyone she knows down with her. In that sense she hadn't changed at all. But she had allowed him in, a little at a time, she allowed him to creep into her heart, he hadn't been sorry.

A big part of him wanted to give her that file, at least she'd be happy. That was all he ever wanted for her. The other part was screaming, he'd loose his job, then what would he be? A cop without his badge? What is that.

_Nothing._

That word screamed in his mind, without that badge, he was nothing, a shell of a man that had lost the one thing that had driven him for years. It was the one thing he wanted more than anything, and he had successfully pushed everyone aside for it, until now. Jordan Cavanaugh, his bright, beautiful, smart, sexy coroner. What was he without her?

_Nothing._

But he hesitated, just for a second, but that pause spoke volumes. She could hear him take in a quick breath and knew nothing would ever drag him away from his badge, not even her. A flush of anger rushed threw her body.

"Woody, Go to hell." She seethed with venom before slapping her cell phone shut.

Woody sat stunned for a moment, listen to the automated voice telling him his call had long since been disconnected. Slowly, he took in a deep breath, looking around slowly. people were standing in the middle of the hallway to watch Sarah Sealer being lead out of her mansion in handcuffs. He looked down at his badge, resting idly next to his keyboard. He picked it up, feeling each groove in the cold metal. Suddenly a cold rush of despair came over him. How many people had he lost because of this hunk of metal? Too many he concluded with a grunt, throwing it down on his desk with something approaching disgust.

_He would not loose her too._

Methodically, he flipped threw his drawer until he found the file in question, without a second beat he was out the door, heading to the apartment he and Jordan had shared for less than a week.

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Oliver stared out at the hazy periwinkle sky that seemed doused with rain. He could hear footsteps in the other room, looking down at the picture in his hand with a sense of regret and astounding despair. In times of fear over losing the one person we love more than anything, we do things we would never do otherwise. That was what Detective Tanner had told him, she had told him things were over, he wasn't getting out of this one.

He looked at the rain, as if for the first time, he had never taken himself for a man who was spontaneous, he didn't watch the sunset, he couldn't look at the waves laping against the shore for hours. But at that moment everything would be okay.

Dectective Tanner had been nice, told him, they booked an appointment for Tatinana with the top oncologist in the country, if only he'd surrender. Weighing his gun in his hand, he knew that wasn't possible, he had come with one purpose, to save her. And now he was done. Pulling his rosary beads out from his jacket pocket, allowing the string of beads to tangle in his fingers.

"Bless me father for I have sinned." He whispered.

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Jordan was beginning to doze off on Woody's shoulder, feeling the comfort she had needed for a very long time. Her hand softly enveloped in his, she felt so safe… so secure.

She could hear the snores of Sam and Charlie from only a few feet away, the buzz of sirens and the shouts of news crews seemed distant and far off. Suddenly it rang out from the back room, an all to familiar noise for her. A single shot rang threw the silence, startling everyone from the peace they had created in their minds


	10. Living With Ghosts

Chapter 10: Staring at the sky

Note: Hope ya'll are enjoying the story please read and review, Please?!

Jordan stood in the middle of the clean cut knoll outside of the mini mart, It all happened so quick, she barely had time to take it all in. Her feet were bare, she wasn't quite sure when she had taken off her shoes, it had to have been some time ago. The sky was filled with purple clouds, that burst with rain. She just stared up at them, with a odd sense of wonder.

She had stood in the rain before, but she had never enjoyed it. She wiggled her toes in the sopping grass, she felt the rain soak threw her jacket and tee shirt. She allowed it to heavy her hair and drip down her face, for the first time, she didn't care. She could no longer see Woody, she wasn't sure where he had gone. But she had a panicked feeling that he had left. Her feet wouldn't move to find him though, she couldn't move from that spot on the grass. Blurred memories began to return to her, though grainy and distorted.

The gunshot, she remembered being startled by it, the way it seemed to echo through out the room. She remembered feeling frozen, much like she was at that moment. Stuck in a single second, frozen in a moment. She remembered Woody looking at her, something new entering his eyes. Then he stood, walking slowly towards the door, staring threw the doorway with astonishment, his face turned pale.

"Woody?" she sputtered shyly, standing up on wobbly legs. Gradually, she walked towards the door, her feet feeling like they were made of iron. Woody blocked her way.

"Jordan… No." once again, he was protecting her, he pushed his arm away, she was surprised at how easy it was, and she wasn't used to him feeling that weak. He buried his face in a hand, not wanting to see the pain on her face. Silently she stood in the doorway, not wanting to believe what she was seeing.

Oliver, so young, his dark hair matted with black blood. His tanned cheek stained crimson, His violet eyes staring sightlessly at the ceiling. What was it about him? She had barely met him, but somehow, she couldn't stand the sight of him lying in a pool of blood.

A sudden rush of images raced threw her mind. Her mother. Her mother had died like that, on a floor, cold and alone, in a pool of scarlet blood. A sudden rush of nausea came over her, she swallowed, not moving. A sudden rush of black Kelvar's rushed past her, the swat team had stormed threw the door. Two men drug her out of the store, and all of a sudden, she was that ten year old again, being torn away from her father.

"No." she whispered fiercely, "NO!" she screamed, yanking away from their grips. She lunged at Woody who was coming out of the doors, his dress shirt unbuttoned partially, his tie loosened. Wrapping her arms around his neck she began to sob into his shoulder. He silently he lifted her into his arms, he had forgotten how small she was, light as a feather in his strong arms. She peeked up to see Nigel, Lily, Garret and Bug sprinting towards her, their faces stricken with a mixture of panic and relief. Woody gingerly set her down as they crowded around her, fussing over her, looking her over.

Woody smiled and stood back, slowly scanning the crowd that had gathered, not seeing a single familiar face there. He looked at Jordan once more with a weak smile, walked away. Slipping his hands into his pockets and fading into the crowd, as he had done so many times before, sometimes it was what he needed.

"Love, let me look at you!" Nigel said in relief, caressing her face gently. He pushed her back only for a moment, then wrapped his arms around her again, clutching to her as if she would disappear.

"You scared the hell out of us Jo, you know that." Garret scolded lovingly, pulling her into a hug, kissing her temple.

"You better not do it again…" Lily said with a smile. Bug wordlessly hugged her, words failed him often, but he felt that the hug spoke volumes.

"Oh you guys." Jordan whispered, gathering her "family" into her arms, her voice breaking. "I was so scared… but I'm okay, Woody took care of me…" she suddenly looked around in a wordless shock. He was gone. "Woody." She repeated softly.

Now she stood in the soaking rain, just like she had done seven years before, when Woody had drove away. A sick sense of betrayal ran threw her veins. The rain felt so cleansing, so renewing, like it had come for the single purpose of washing away any sense of greed or hate away from the world. He was really gone, just like that, disappearing without a word to anyone.

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"How you doing Washee?" Shiloh asked softly, wiping rain from her dark eyes.

"Fine." He said immediately, clearly annoyed at her calling him "Washee." Her pet name for him, referring back to her Sioux heritage. She cocked her head, allowing a dark strand of hair to fall into her face.

"Then why are you in here and not out there?" she asked pointing to the open flap of the makeshift tent the FBI had set up.

"Because I am not a part of that family anymore, I don't deserve to be."

"Washee," she said stubbornly, " you're my partner and I love you, but sometimes you are too stubborn… This entire time you and Jordan were in there, they were just as worried about you as they were about her… I think the only barrier in-between you and them, exists in your mind ."

He contemplated what she had said for a long, agonizing moment before finally muttering. "What does that mean anyway?" her eyes met his.

"What does what mean?" she asked quizzically, wrinkling her tiny nose.

"Washee, what does that mean?" he said again slowly. She chuckled, slapping him on the thigh good naturedly.

"It's the lard I put in my stew…" Woody laughed as she stood and made her way out the flap of the tent. He was left alone with the events of the last ten hours running threw his mind. He thought of Jordan, Garret, Nigel, Lily and Bug, the family he had willingly joined in Boston, only to abandon them to run. He wondered if he would ever really be accepted back, he knew he didn't deserve it at all. But maybe, just maybe, he could earn their trust again, and he would never break it again.

He stood up slowly, scanning the crowd once again, this time looking for a whiskey-eyed, chestnut-haired medical examiner that had haunted his dreams for seven years. He found her standing on the knoll, her eyes to the sky. He felt nervous, wiping his palms on his suit pants. Swallowed the fear of what she might say.

Before he knew it he was standing right behind her.

"Hey." He whispered apprehensively

She turned startled, and then the look of fright became one of relief. "Hey back." She murmured "I thought you left."

"Nah… I kind like it here now." She chuckled, smiling, feeling the world melt away as he smiled.

"You wanna get a cup of coffee, I know this great place where we can get a good cup of week old coffee, and Caroline lets us eat all the cheesecake we want." He shoved his hands into his pocket nervously, feeling something foreign brush against his fingers. Slowly he lifted his pack of cigarettes. Staring at them numbly for a moment.

"You smoke? I didn't know you smoked." She said wrinkling her nose in disgust. He smiled and kissed her cheek, in the same instant crushing the pack in his fist.

"Did smoke." He corrected, after a uncomfortable moment he finally whispered "So are we okay?"

Jordan looked down then back into his blue eyes "We will be." She took his hand and led him down the street, relishing in the fact that he was home again… that word ringing threw her mind, over and over, and for the first time in her life that word felt safe. _Home._

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_**Four months later…**_

"Get down here!" Jordan screamed into the phone. "I told you to bring the camra, remember? I stuck the post-it note to your head." She screeched.

"I'm sorry I'll be down as soon as I can." Jordan rolled her eyes as she heard Woody fumble for a moment before the phone went dead. Turning to Garret she groaned. "Some days I wonder about that man… I mean, come on Gar, he's like a gopher on crank sometimes." Garret smiled, hugging her close to him.

"But you love him right?" he asked as Bug burst threw the doors into the maternity ward waiting room.

"I have a little girl, I have a little girl Jasmine!!!" he screeched in happiness, before disappearing behind the doors again, Jordan smiled wide, rubbing Garrets back methodically.

"At times, I'm not sure why, but I love him more than words can express."

_**FIN**_


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